


And They Lived Happily Ever After (Here Endeth the Saga)

by Telaryn



Series: The Hero and The Bad Boy [35]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Family Feels, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage, Same-Sex Marriage, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4824260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Quinn's wedding day is punctuated by a few unexpected (but very welcome) guests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Lived Happily Ever After (Here Endeth the Saga)

**Author's Note:**

> Sad to say, I think I mean it this time. It's been a hell of a ride, and I appreciate each and every one of you that's taken this twisting little journey with me (and please - if you feel inspired to take the boys out for a spin - tag me in so I can read your take!), but I think it's time to call this particular series closed.

“Stop that,” Nat scowled, slapping Clint’s hand away from the tie. “You’ve worn couture before.” Brow furrowing in concentration, she adjusted his collar and lapels.

Clint exhaled sharply, trying to focus on his image in the mirror and keep his hands at his sides. “Those were missions. It’s different.”

Natasha’s lips curled in a wry grin. “That’s your nerves talking.” Her hands made two sharp movements, the skin of her palms hissing against the fabric of his tuxedo, then she stepped back and met his eyes. “Unless you want to say your vows through a split lip, keep your hands off the suit.”

 _Vows…_ Clint swallowed hard, feeling a swell of nerves deep in his gut. “This is really happening,” he sighed, focusing on Natasha again. Her smile widened, became more genuine.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said. “You know that, right?”

He laughed then, and tried to convince himself there wasn’t a thread of hysteria in the sound. “It’s why you love me.” Overcome then, he pulled her into a quick, tight embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his head briefly against her shoulder. Natasha allowed the contact for longer than he expected, before pulling free.

“You did all the hard work,” she said, her expression soft and caring. “You and Quinn both. I’m just glad I got to be a part of it all coming together.”

Leaning in, Clint kissed her gently on the cheek. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” Natasha had been responsible for a great deal more than emotional support in the years it had taken Clint and Quinn to figure out their lives and who they wanted to be for each other, but Clint knew she wouldn’t stand for being called out on it. “So who’s here?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“The usual suspects,” Natasha said, going to the room’s tiny refrigerator and taking out a beer. Popping the top, she passed it to him. “Some of your tenants from Bed Stuy, some of your old TAC buddies, Avengers, local politicians…”

He knew what the answer was going to be before he asked, but Clint couldn’t stop himself. “Any sign of Barney?” He’d put the word out through all the usual channels, trying to find his brother and let him know what was happening, but when Barney had declared his intention to disappear this last time he’d clearly meant it.

“Kate’s here,” Nat said, understanding that he wasn’t really looking for an answer about Barney. “Complaining to everyone that she didn’t get a chance to meet Quinn.”

Fear flashed through Clint. _She wouldn’t…would she?_ Then he sighed and shook his head. _Of course she would._ “Any chance Tony’s with Quinn?”

“You really think that’s going to stop her?”  
****************************************  
Quinn would have realized who the dark haired young woman at the door of the room he’d been given was even before she announced herself to “Mr. Stark”. Tony had agreed to be Quinn’s witness for the ceremony; Natasha was performing the same function for Clint.

He knew all about Kate Bishop, the “other” Hawkeye. She’d first come to his awareness after he’d taken a contract on Clint – accepting millions of dollar to turn the archer over to a man who’d had every intention of mutilating him. Katherine Bishop had been on a list of ‘known associates’ Quinn had been given, but he’d dismissed her almost immediately as a potential source of leverage. Clint had trained the girl, and as Quinn would learn later was obviously fond of her, but her family connections in New York and Los Angeles society would have drawn more attention than Quinn had been prepared to deal with at the time.

By the time Clint and Quinn had become involved with each other, Kate had relocated to Los Angeles. Clint had always been reluctant to discuss the details of her leaving New York, and Quinn hadn’t pressed.

 _Things couldn’t have been that horrible,_ he thought, getting to his feet as he heard Tony’s voice rise sharply. “It’s all right,” he said, going to join the billionaire at the door. “I’m Quinn,” he said, locking eyes with the dark-haired young woman. Reaching past Tony’s shoulder, he took her hand and shook it. “You must be Kate.”

He heard Tony make a soft, disapproving noise and briefly clapped his friend and boss on the shoulder. “You’re going to regret this,” Stark muttered, turning away from them and heading for the sideboard where a decanter of whiskey rested next to a pair of highball glasses.

“He’s not a fan,” Kate said, without a hint of embarrassment. “Mind if I come in for a minute?”

“We’re a little busy,” Tony snarked. He’d poured himself two fingers of the whiskey, but Quinn noticed that he seemed more interested in holding it than consuming any of it.

“It’s fine,” he said pointedly, locking eyes with the other man. “I’ve wanted to meet Kate for a while. We’ve got time.” He gestured the young woman into the space. “Does Clint know you’re here?”

Kate swept into the room in his wake and settled herself on the couch. “I saw Black Widow outside, so I’m sure he does by now.” She gestured for Quinn to join her.

Deciding he wasn’t brave enough to sit next to her on the couch, Quinn took the nearest chair. “I know Clint’s going to be glad you made it,” he said, feeling an unexpected chill shiver down his spine.

“Enough about Clint,” Kate countered, waving the subject of her former partner/mentor aside. “Way I figured it, we’ve got about fifteen minutes for you to explain to me how one of the most notorious contract killers in the modern era ended up about to get married to my best friend.”

Quinn wasn’t surprised when he looked across the room at Tony to find Stark mouthing “I told you so,” back at him.  
*****************************************  
Nobody would tell Clint exactly who had cut a deal with Emma Frost for use of the mutant school grounds, but whichever of his friends had made the move he was grateful. Neither he nor Quinn were particularly religious, and all the available venues in the city were either too small, too shabby, or impossible to secure.

Sun warmed his face as he leaned on the balcony railing, and Clint didn’t try and stop the smile. It was hard sometimes to remember how many people had become a part of his life over the years, and who thought well enough of him to support him in this move. _Or at least show up and behave long enough for a kick-ass party._ He and Quinn had offered up their own considerable funds to pay for the day; Tony had all but laughed in their faces.

“Yo – Barton.” Blinking, Clint looked down to see Logan – the mutant known as Wolverine – standing on the ground below him. “Got somebody wants to talk to you.” Clint checked the area for Natasha – not seeing his partner, he shrugged and headed down the stairs to join his occasional teammate.

“Who is it?” he asked, as Logan led him away from the activity, towards a side gate in the mansion’s high stone wall. Wolverine wasn’t the most talkative person Clint knew under the best of circumstances, but before Clint could push him to share what he knew, he caught sight of a familiar face through the iron bars of the gate. “Kamala.”

A heartbeat later he realized she wasn’t alone. _Hanifah._ Quinn’s daughter, nearly a year old, was riding the older girl’s hip, her tiny hands fisted in the fabric of Kamala’s blouse. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Logan undid the lock on the gate and swung it open.

Nodding at Wolverine, Kamala stepped through and onto the path opposite Clint. “I was invited to a party at the Mutant School,” she said. “I knew Quinn was going to be there, and Mrs. Sahar was busy this afternoon so she said I should just bring Hanifah along and that would count for this week’s visitation.”

She blinked several times, smiling at him in what she clearly intended to be an expression of innocence. Clint couldn’t suppress a small snort of amused disbelief. “You didn’t sell her on that story, did you?”

“No,” the teenager responded, shifting the little girl to a more comfortable position. “But if Mr. Sahar asks, that’s exactly what happened.” She looked down at Quinn’s daughter. “This is your Daddy’s friend Clint, Hani – can you say hi?”

The girl giggled and buried her face in Kamala’s shoulder. Clint’s chest tightened with emotion as he reached out to gently touch the toddler’s shoulder. “Hello Hanifah,” he said softly.

“I’m gonna get another beer,” Logan said as Hanifah looked up and met Clint’s eyes. “Barton, by my watch you’ve got about twenty minutes before Widow comes to get you. Make it count.”

Clint nodded absently at Wolverine, seeing him leave at the corner of his vision. There was something much more important going on directly in front of him. “I’m very happy to meet you,” he said in the same soft tone. Hanifah’s expression sobered – almost as if she realized what was happening, and how huge this was. “Can I hold you?” Clint asked, raising his hands to punctuate the question.

Hanifah glanced back at Kamala, who nodded encouragement. She looked back at Clint then, but didn’t make a further move until Clint – thinking she wasn’t going to trust him – started to lower his hands. When she reached out for him, Clint immediately took her into his arms and settled her on his hip, in the same hold Kamala had used. He wasn’t aware he was crying until the little girl reached up and touched his cheek. “He sad, ‘Mala,” she said, her voice as sweet and musical as he remembered from the few videos Quinn had shown him.

He struggled to wipe away the tears with his free hand as Kamala said hastily, “I think he’s just happy to meet you.” Clint nodded hastily, smiling as he caught the little girl’s attention again.

“Your daddy talks about you all the time,” he said, struggling against the pull of unexpected emotions as the girl looked at him. “He’s told me how smart you are, and how big you’re getting.”

“I can sing ‘alif ba ta’,” the girl said. Her focus was drawn randomly to his bow tie – Clint didn’t have the heart to remove her tiny hands from the carefully tied knot as she reached for it.

“How?” he whispered, looking over the child’s head at Kamala Khan. The current Ms. Marvel was grinning at the two of them, clearly very pleased with herself.

“Mrs. Sahar is a smart lady,” Kamala said, her expression going suddenly much-too-serious for her age. “She understands what it means to have somebody like Tony Stark on your side.” Momentarily horrified at the thought, Clint wondered just how far Tony’s people had gone before Stark had agreed to listen to Clint on the matter of Quinn’s daughter. “It was easy to convince her that bending the custody rules this once and letting me bring Hani to the wedding was worth it to keep the peace.”

The toddler laid her head against Clint’s shoulder, but her fingers still fumbled stubbornly with his tie. Overcome with emotion, he hugged the girl gently to his chest. “Thank you,” he said to Kamala. “You have no idea what this means…”

“It’s not that complicated,” Kamala said. Clint saw her gaze tick briefly past his shoulder and turned in time to see Natasha coming down the path towards them. The Black Widow drew up sharply, eyes widening as she saw who he held in his arms; then recovering immediately, continued towards them.

“Everybody’s waiting,” she told him – the effort of _not_ grabbing him and frog-marching him down to the gazebo making her visibly tremble. “Hello, Kamala.”

Clint made to hand the child off to Kamala as she came up on his right, but Natasha shook her head firmly. “Not until we get to the gazebo. Somebody needs to get a picture of this; it’s going to be the best gift Quinn gets all day.”  
*****************************************  
His sit-down with Kate Bishop was still buzzing around inside Quinn’s brain, distracting him nicely from the fact that Tasha had gone to find Clint. He’d survived the fifteen minute grilling, which in retrospect was probably more than he had any right to hope for.

 _”I can’t defend the man I was – only the man I am today,”_ he’d told her at last. _”Even so, the man I am today fucks up a lot and has hurt Clint a lot more than he deserves to be hurt by anyone. All I can say is that I love him more than I’ve ever loved another human being.in my life. He makes my world better, and I want to spend the rest of my days figuring out all the ways I can make him happy.”_

Quinn was discovering as he got older that truth wasn’t something he could easily smooth talk. His truths were plain-spoken and stumbling more often than not. _Work in progress._ But whatever he’d said or whatever she’d seen, Kate had ultimately softened towards him. She’d still delivered the expected threat of beating him to death with a shovel if he broke Clint’s heart – “A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend,” – but she’d also kissed his cheek and wished him all the best.

Meeting up with the Leverage team as he’d made his way out to the garden had steadied him somewhat. Eliot Spencer was one of the truest friends Quinn had ever known, and the team had sort of adopted him over the years as a distant cousin or first alternate or something, but he’d never expected Nate Ford – the team’s leader and “mastermind” – to agree to Quinn’s request that he perform the ceremony.

(Up until that point, Namor – an Atlantean prince with a tendency to go around in little more than a Speedo – had been Clint’s only semi-serious suggestion for an officiant.)

Quinn was vaguely aware that the noise of the watching guests had gradually gotten louder, but it wasn’t until he head Tony say, “Holy shit,” that Quinn realized Natasha had successfully retrieved the wayward groom. It took another beat for him to register that Clint was holding something in his arms – a stunned expression on the archer’s face – and another after that to recognize that the ‘something’ was his own child.

“Daddy!” Hanifah called from her perch on Clint’s hip, waving enthusiastically at Quinn. Not certain anymore whether to laugh or cry, Quinn hurried down the steps and met them coming up the aisle.

“Hi baby,” he said, catching her as she launched herself without warning from Clint’s grasp into his. Meeting his lover’s gaze, he raised his eyebrows – asking the obvious question without words. Clint shrugged, stepping back and drawing Kamala Khan forward. His daughter’s part time babysitter, part time bodyguard met his gaze without flinching.

“C’mere, Hani,” she said, reaching out and prying the child free. “We’re going to watch your Daddy do something really important.”

Quinn was still trying to process that fact that his daughter was even here, much less that Kamala clearly intended them to stay, when Natasha grabbed him and Clint by an arm each and hustled them back in the direction of the gazebo. “Not while the guests are waiting and the food’s growing cold boys,” she muttered, practically shoving them up the few steps to where Nate was still waiting for them and taking her place beside Tony.

“Yasmeen agreed,” Clint said breathlessly, naming Hani’s great aunt, as they turned to face each other. Quinn took the archer’s hands in his. “I didn’t know – it was Kamala’s idea. They’re staying for the reception – Quinn, she’s amazing.”

Overcome with emotion, Quinn pulled Clint in close and kissed him as thoroughly and deeply as he could. For a long, blissful moment there was nothing in the world but the two of them; the spell broken just as quickly by the sound of Nate clearing his throat. Cheeks warm, Quinn ducked his head for a moment, then turned and looked up at the man who had given him his first hints that a life like this was even possible for someone like him.

“Let’s do this in the correct order, please,” the mastermind chided him, setting a ripple of laughter through the crowd. Nodding, Quinn stepped back a pace – still keeping a tight grip on Clint.

 _Love you,_ he breathed, as their eyes met. Clint’s smile widened, and his calloused fingers tightened reassuringly around Quinn’s hands.

“We are gathered here today…”


End file.
